


Bilge Rudder

by wickedrum



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scenes, Smut, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedrum/pseuds/wickedrum
Summary: Set: In the gap between Season 3 and Season 4 as missing scenes when none of the returning raiders are sure if their King Ragnar was going to survive.
Relationships: Aslaug/Ragnar Lothbrok, Lagertha/Ragnar Lothbrok
Kudos: 21





	1. Turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: I barely own my knickers. When I am writing, it's foremost for my own pleasure.

Chapter 1: Turbulence 

Bjorn moved down the overcrowded longship, making an educated guess about where he could find his mother. Right enough, he found Lagertha sitting by her ex husband, seemingly deep in thought as she stared ahead, making it look uncertain whether she was looking at the seriously ill Viking or out to sea. Bjorn put a hand on her shoulder as he sat beside her in the small space that wasn’t occupied by injured warriors. “We have lost so many. Are you alright?” His mother took the hand he put on her shoulder into hers. 

The blond nodded seriously, “you don’t have to worry about me, understand?” He sat in silence for a moment, following her gaze. After all, the journey to Kattegat was a long one, there was no need for any hurry while on board. “What about him? Will he survive?”

“I don’t know, can’t say for sure.” Lagertha let on truthfully, “he hasn’t woken since yesterday.”

Bjorn sighed, regarding his father. The leader’s colour didn’t look very different to a dead man’s, his hair and beard was sticky with sweat and he somehow had lost weight just during the last few days they’ve been sea bound. Lagertha reached out slowly to squeeze his hand, half hoping that the prompting would wake him for once. But it didn't and his skin felt rather cold, colder than before when she had done the exact same thing. To know he wasn’t able to open his eyes at least, didn't say a lot of good about the shape Ragnar was in. She touched his cheek then, gently caressing it, testing how cold he was there. She could not think of losing him, not to Valhalla, not for real.“You must find him another fur.” 

The young Viking nodded and stood, going for his own throw he used at night. Getting Ragnar a bit warmer will be good, but instinct told her she had to try to do more till they reached land. Fearing what she would see, she’d not looked under his clothes so far, but if she was to give him any chance, she should be. Swallowing her anxiety, she gently unfastened some of his buckles till he could peek under to find his entire belly and chest covered in all colours possible, from green to deep black, the sign she knew was of bleeding inside. Not even a wound they could at least tend to. 

“Mm…oh,” a weak moan came from Ragnar’s closed lips and he moved his head to the side a little, making Lagertha wonder if his stomach was hurting more with her useless ministrations she now felt guilty for.

“Come on, Ragnar, don’t do this,” she patted his face and when there was no response she pulled at her shirt sleeve so she could clean the black dirtiness off his pale cheeks so that she could study his features and reactions a bit more. “Trust in the gods, I'm here,” she held his hand again, her heart in her throat as she could hear another, louder moan followed by the sick Viking mumbling something.

His eyes opened, but then they squinted shut again. Lagertha waited, rubbing the back of his hand, but he had settled, nothing happened as she watched him, concerned and rather furious that that useless Aslaug has never bothered to come with them so the worrying fell to her. If the current Queen would have been about, surely she would not care for her ex so much? And Ragnar had clearly not been taken care of, not for a long time. There was not much to do now but watch his chest rising and falling, making sure it still did. It wasn’t even regular or peaceful, rather erratic and barely noticeable, but Lagertha knew that the man’s broken ribs would be responsible for that so she took comfort in the existence of his breathing while she took the piece of fur Bjorn had arrived with and placed it gently over Ragnar’s his neck, arms and chest, where she thought his body would need the heat more. 

“He would warm up better if you lay down with him, won’t he?” Bjorn stated matter of factly, but Lagertha’s head still snapped up to look and see whether her son was being serious. “Don’t you need sleep? Just sleep there,” the young Viking continued as it would have been the most natural thing in the world, “I’m sure nobody would mind,” he left them to their own devices. 

Lagertha took a few moments, considering the option. It was a confusing feeling that filled her with yearning. Here he was lying half dead in front of her and all she could think of was her deep seated desire to touch him, be with him again. Lying down with him was too close for that thought not to affect her. But his needs had to be of more importance, weren’t they always. So she slid close, trying to judge how to slide under the covers herself in a way that hurt him the least. Her body close against his side, she aimed not to touch his belly or chest as she knew that’s where it hurt him the most. She lay her head on his shoulder instead, her hand settling lower than his waist for the same reason, almost at his groins. 

It took only a few moments for her to notice that his penis had noticeably and visibly responded to her touch, suddenly filling out and straining hard. He couldn’t be that unwell then, could he? Lagertha smirked, amused and looked up at his face, wondering if it was only an unconscious reflex. She started surprised when she saw that he had tilted his head towards her and was looking at her with obvious tease in his eyes, a look she knew well.

“I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be with someone else?” He taunted her with a mock scandalized tone, eyebrows raised.

The shield maiden just shook her head nonchalantly at him, “great, you're up. Awake. You have got to try to drink something,” she reached for her pouch and gave it to him. The shield maiden did not want to show how much she cared, though it was probably obvious so she slid back out from under his covers, only to have to lean back again when he dropped the container with the water. “Don’t spill it,” she chastised, helping it to his lips again. 

His head dropped back away from it only after a moment, as though he was too weak to hold that up too. “I don’t care. Where are we?” He breathed.

Lagertha shrugged, “about halfway. But you need to drink more. You haven’t had anything since yesterday.” He shook his head weakly. His eyes were glassy, as if wet. She had never seen him like this before, so distanced away from reality, so lost. Of course, he was one or the other at times, but not physically and seemingly mentally broken by loss at the same time. So Lagertha simply lay down beside him, promising herself to stay with him till the end if it was to be so. 

Too feeble to think of any more and his eyes slowly losing the battle against being closed shut, he still shifted to embrace her, surprising her, “I only have a little bit left so thank you for your love,” he muttered before he fell into unconsciousness again.

Tbc


	2. Rugged Resilience

Chapter 2: Rugged Resilience

Lagertha was woken by movement under her, different to the seas’ up and down motion. It was then that her subconscious mind made her aware that someone had been calling her name a few times before. It seemed that Ragnar was trying to sit up, rather hindered by her weight on top of him. “Easy, easy, you alright?” The shield maiden moved out the way quickly and placed her hands under his armpits to help him, “why do you need to sit up? Need to puke?”

Ragnar groaned, but shook his head, then had to wait for it to stop spinning before speaking, “the moon’s position changed. How long has it been since we last talked?”

“Not long. A few hours. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much,” she smiled at him benevolently, glad that he was conscious enough to question things. 

“We’re not near Kattegat. And I’m not dangerously near death,” he summarised. 

“It appears so. Just rest, I will take care of you, you can always trust me,” she looked him in the eyes to assure him.

“I should perhaps lie back then?” He sighed, “not best comfortable like this,” he held his ribs, closing his eyes in pain. That was enough adventure for one day. Or night. Changed times. 

“Wait, not yet, this is important. Leif swears this elixir should help,” Lagertha didn’t hesitate to pour something into his unexpecting mouth. He could only shake his head weakly in protest. His belly was sickly and the sour taste of the supposed medicine was unlikely to soothe it. Digestion had been difficult as it was even without it, and his stomach had gotten unused to handle anything bar for the little bits of soft fish flesh he had been was occasionally given. His feverish brain barely registered being settled back down after. The sounds of the waves and the wind shaking the boat had a relaxing, homey feel to-it-effect on his exhausted mind, despite the pain that wrecked his whole torso, so intense that it strangely acquired a detached feeling, as if it wasn’t him that was hurting even. 

“You're safe here with me. Trust in the Gods,” he felt her hands on his cheek again and he realised he must have been moaning to elicit this response. He felt her worry for him intensely, as well as the crew’s and warriors’ beside him with how he was, drained and half delirious. He was only surprised by her concern, and her staying beside him at all times that he was aware as far as he could tell.

“Try to keep that tincture down for it won’t help if you chuck it back up,” Lagertha took his hand gently into her own. He didn't oppose it, oh no. Instead, he moved his other hand and put it on too, above hers. A man so ill like him, was allowed everything after all. In fact he should really tell her he still loved her before he died. He had his boys, sure, but as far as women went, Lagertha was the only one who was worth having, to hold, the only woman who was his equal as a warrior, a strategist, a partner in crime, and not just a toy to play with and to be discarded of later. Not like his other conquests. 

He hung onto her more tightly, “I know it won’t help anything, but looking back, if I could turn back time..” 

“Don’t lie and humiliate me with insults,” the shield maiden was admonishing, though there was no heat in it.

“You know I love you, regardless,” Ragnar started again in a different way. He would've never said it, but he felt like it was unlikely he would make it to Kattegat. “Some may say I do not know how to love that way, but that's not true,” his eyes sparkled feverishly in his attempt to convince her. 

“I know that, Ragnar. You loved me, and it was enough. You don’t have to torture yourself over it, we’ll meet one another in Valhalla if nowhere else,” Lagertha took pity on him given the circumstances. Maybe she did forgive him, it was hard to tell even for her with all these heightened emotions. 

The King grunted with a nod, acknowledging her words with half a smile before seemingly nodding off again, not reacting to her rearranging his covers. She leaned forward and dried the sweat off him with the throw from over her shoulders, pausing and well-nigh hovering in mid air when she bent forward to do the same with his neck. She was so close to his lips, so temptingly close. What was she doing? She didn't even understand it herself, but right at this point in time reason slipped her mind. Maybe because she was too tired, but all she wanted was finding comfort in his arms. He’d never stopped being in her subconscious’ dreams. She felt drawn to his lips more and more. 

They were surprisingly warm. So much softer than she thought they could be given with how ill he was. She slowly nuzzled his lips delicately. It was his upper lip that responded first by discovering the intruder. Then he took charge with a slow, probing kiss while his hands pulled her close, back down against him.

Lagertha felt unable to pull away and deny him her presence. She slid under the covers in a way nobody would suspect what she was doing and straddled him, mindful of his injuries. To her knowledge, his hips or legs were not affected and somehow what she was doing to him set off waves of energy originating around his groins and coursing through his entire body again.

She was helping, doing the work by lifting his tunic and unfastening the straps under it, and her own belts too, slid herself on top of his already ready member, then started moving slowly up and and down, making sure she wasn’t hurting him too much, “are you all right? Am I harming you?” 

“I'm all good, don’t stop,” he said raggedly and looked her in the eyes with a fondness that made her heart melt. He found no anger there. She smiled, then started moving again, encouraging him gently so his rock hard member could rid itself of its juicy load. That was Ragnar alright. Half dead, and still thinking with his cock, that shapely manna that felt just like she remembered it and that thought alone made her moan. Lagertha had to suppress her urge to bounce up and down on his penis harder by reminding herself that not doing it didn’t take away from his size and the feel of his shaft grinding against her insides and that both their ardent, rough and occasional slow lovemaking usually satisfied her just the same. She made sure to hold onto the gunwale and not onto him and some part of her consciousness held onto the thought that she had to monitor him throughout for a more extreme manifestation of pain, but most of all, she was going to claim him once more, make him hers in the eyes of the Gods, especially if he was going to meet them soon. 

From experience with the way he started to slightly shake, held onto her ass and buried his face into her breasts, the shield maiden knew he was about to cum so she gave herself the pleasure of sinking deep onto his still hard rod, clench her vagina and adsorb the hot spring of his seed. She had to throw her head back, bite her lips to keep the noises and groans bubbling up in and remained like that, clenching for a moment, her whole body coming down from the surge of hormonal rush slower than she felt his cock tilt and wither inside her. 

The Earl dismounted him with a sigh and sat close beside him, rearranging the covers and taking a check around if anyone had noticed their activities in the veil of the darkness. Ragnar seemed to follow her movements with fascination, trying to catch her eyes and despite the pain it gave him, he raised a hand to capture her cheek and pull her back for a kiss. It was sort of a thank you. Lagertha was certain it was his weak state only that stopped him from ravaging her mouth in the way he used to. “You were always very good at that,” he commented in a complimentary, adoring, passionate manner, “knowing the true meaning of fucking.”

“But not giving you enough sons,” she admonished him and his obsession with that damn prophecy. 

“Can you forgive foolish me?” Ragnar liked to play the pity card as one of his weapons. Lagertha knew that but at this point, she’d just rather ignore it and place her head on his shoulder so they could sit quietly staring out to the horizon of the dark waves peacefully lapping back and forwards in seemingly perfect harmony, speaking and promising of the new lands and adventures they both so cherished. The wind was picking up with a coldness that spoke of home..Ragnar shivered and moaned. He didn’t want to go home anyway, not there, not to Aslaug. 

“Is the pain worse, my love?” Lagertha misinterpreted his moan. 

He grunted in negation, “it definitely doesn't bother me that much anymore.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that is a good sign,” she shared her worry. He was too weak, too lucid for the colour of his grey skin, too eager to say some words he’d never uttered before, too unlike the asshole she knew. 

“Soon darling..” It also sounded sincere.

“Don’t you dare say that!” She would have hit him in the chest if not for the site of his injuries. 

He reached out to her again and grabbed her hand to sit with her like that. She was so close to him, so close, yet so far that it felt like his calloused fingertips hurt with the touch. “Don’t you dare die,” she changed the tune, “not without being dealt out proper revenge for cheating on me, destroying our home and betraying me!”

Ragnar had to smile at that, “what wish do you have in mind?” He tried to keep his head up, but it just wanted to sway lightheadedly. He would close his eyes for a bit till his sense of balance would come back.

“For me to surpass your achievements in every manner.” But even as she said it, meaning it too, her face showed deep concern over his closing eyes. “I will, that’s a promise. I have dreamed of it for a long time.”

The King of Kattegat wished he could open his eyes and see her determined beautiful blue ones and that ethereal fire that he knew lit up in them. It was why he loved her, her spirit, her strength. Surpassing him, it wouldn’t have even bothered him too much. Parting with her to go to Valhalla, now that was something worthy of reconsidering. He let himself lean into her, not only for support, his cheek close to her braided locks, breathing in her scent..It has been a long time since he had felt so soothed and cared for, by anyone. 

“But it’s alright, I'm here..” 

He surprised her when he spoke again. “My offer still stands. It has not changed. We could rule together.”

“Let me guess. But you need your breeding mare together with you too. Don’t waste your breath, your strength and the moment, Ragnar. Let’s just enjoy it,” she placed her head back against his. 

End of Missing Scenes.


End file.
